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 Posted: Thu May 07, 2009 11:19 pm
Although it was still early in the day, it was dark. That alone would not have been so bad, but it was also cramped, dirty, and smelled strongly of cigarette smoke. The few pieces of furniture stuffed into the studio apartment were already old and shabby, covered with stains and littered with holes. A thick layer of dust coated every surface that wasn't frequently used. As a result, everything but the couch and the television was grimy, lending to the dank interior.
The man didn't appear to care. He took a long drag on his cigarette, exhaled a cloud of smoke, and watched as it faded, the gray fog becoming one with the gray of the room. His eyes weren't on the television, which showed commercials for porn flicks he couldn't afford, or on the papers in his lap. Instead, they were unfocused, his mind blank.
Melville Duane, dealer, was tired.
If one asked him exactly what he dealt in, he would coolly reply "everything." This was an exaggeration, but not a gross one. He had ties to people in stolen goods, gambling, identity theft, narcotics, hacking, and forgery. Needed a fake birth certificate? A pound of cocaine? Information about insider trading? A new television? Melville was your man.
There were, however, some things that Melville would not get into. Murder was at the top of that list, followed by prostitution. There were too many things that could go wrong, and while his life was far from the glamorous one he'd hoped for, he had no interest in ending it with a death sentence.
Because of his "morals, Melville was considered strictly small time by those in the business. Never mind that he could get his hands on the finest heroin, or turn a down-and-out crook into a well-respected businessman. His skill set was not exactly unique, and other dealers could do everything he could and more- and they would, without a second thought. Occasionally Melville thought about joining them, but whenever he heard about one getting arrested, with execution looming in the future, he decided again that being a small fry was better than being fish fry.
But even though he knew he was making the "right" decision, he was dissatisfied. Melville Duane was a small man, but he had big dreams. Living in a rundown hole in the wall, providing odds and ends to shady politicians and lowlife crooks, subsisting on day-old bread and instant noodles, was hardly the life he'd pictured for himself. Once he was respected, established, but he'd been dissatisfied then. Now, free of the rules and living on his own terms, he was still unhappy. There was so much more he could have. How was he to lay hands on it? Where was his richly deserved happiness?
With that thought, he shook all over, as if waking from a dream. His eyes, no longer glazed over, looked greedily at the paperwork in his lap. He laughed hollowly as he flipped through it. Why hadn't he thought of this earlier? If it went according to plan, it would solve everything.
The topmost sheet had a header: Xenobiology Research & Supply. The rest of the form asked for specifics regarding the type of creature being ordered, delivery address, payment information, and so on.
The whole thing was close enough to human trafficking, another high-penalty offense, that it had made Melville nervous at first. The more he considered it, however, the more he grew attracted to the idea. Maybe what he needed was something he'd never dealt in- a sense of innocence.
Melville took a pen from his pocket, uncapped it, and began to fill out the form. Age? Young, he thought, the younger the better. Species? Probably human. While curiosities were curious, people were more attracted to familiar things, and since humans held the majority in Gaia (if barely), it would be best to stick to that. Sex? Melville nearly wrote "yes" but sobered up quickly. A girl, he thought. No one didn't love little girls.
And he... he would love this little girl more than anyone else. After all, she would be his special service, his niche in the business.
Humming to himself, Melville quickly finished the form and stuffed it into a legal-sized envelope. When it was done, he leaned back against the sagging couch cushions and lit another cigarette. It was only a matter of time now. His dreams were going to come true.
She would make them come true.
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Posted: Fri May 08, 2009 12:01 am
"GPD! We have a warrant!"
Vera Lyndsea, Special Agent with the Vice Squad of the Gaian Police Department, banged on the door. There was no reply. Vera frowned at this; she would have much preferred if he'd been home. Thoughts of arresting Duane evaporated, and she nodded at the two uniformed officers with her. "Break it down."
The officers stepped forward, while Vera checked the safety on her handgun. It was off, of course. She chided herself for her silliness. The door suddenly flew inward, and without hesitation she took the lead, holding the gun out in front of her. "GPD!" she announced again, as per protocol. "Freeze!"
There was, however, no one hear, aside from the officers with her. The studio apartment appeared to be empty. Vera had to admit, as she scanned the room, that there weren't many places for him to hide. There wasn't even a closet. Still, Vera checked behind the couch, the television, the steel coffee table, and out the windows. No one was hiding on the fire escape, and the rust on the ladder indicated that it hadn't been moved in ages. Something to report to a building inspector, but not helpful when tracking a criminal.
"Damn," Vera muttered, her wings twitching with anger. She was so sure she had him this time! Her emotions slipped, and she punched the wall. The wall, barely more than wallpaper and paint, dented underneath her fist. She raised an eyebrow at it, but considering the condition of the rest of the apartment, she doubted anyone else would notice.
The officers exchanged a glance. "Detective," the younger one asked, "what should we do now?"
"We have a search warrant, don't we?" Vera snapped. No good. If she lashed out at them, it wouldn't help their search at all. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath for continuing. "We search. Anything that proves Duane lives here, what he's up to. Mail. We'll need to check the mailbox, see if there's anything there. Contraband. Any leads on what he's into now, what his next step is." As she spoke, Vera surveyed the kitchen first, poking into things with an unsharpened pencil. There was a stack of mail on the counter, which she leafed through. Most of it was junk, but there were a few bank statements from different accounts, most of them overdrawn.
There was also one reciept, unmarked, for... "That's quite a sum," Vera remarked. "He must have put everything into this little plan, whatever it is." That there was no information on the receipt was annoying. It was paid with a money order, through the mail, so there was no credit card transaction to trace. The envelope the receipt was in had a similar lack of information. All she could see was that Duane had spent a substantial amount of money, possibly all he had. But on what?
"Take this," she muttered, handing the stack of papers to one of the officers, who proceeded to slip it into an evidence bag. Next was the main room. The couch was littered with cigarette butts, despite the presence of several ashtrays on the arms, all overflowing. Vera checked, but none of the butts was even remotely warm. The couch and television were also cold. That mollified her only slightly; Duane hadn't escaped, she simply came when he was out. Now that she knew that, it could work to her advantage.
Vera was starting to plan the stakeout when something unusual caught her eye. "Officers," she asked, trying to figure it out, "does something strike you as odd about that table?"
The two looked at each other again, then at the table in question. It's smooth surface was metal, probably steel, and smudged with dirt like the rest of the apartment. "Dirty, isn't it?" commented one of the officers.
"Yeah," agreed the other. "Maybe that's why he put all the ashtrays on the couch." Not that that hypothesis made sense, but the officer just shrugged. Criminals did weird things.
Vera flinched. "Thank you, gentlemen..." Her voice trailed off. 'Moved the ashtrays?' Was that the answer? Quickly she bent down, so the top of the table was at eye level. While the surface was stained and dusty, there was no ash on it. In fact, there wasn't anything on it. "That's it!" she exclaimed. "Who has a table, but doesn't put anything on it?"
Now that she looked more closely, the table really looked more like a box. A big metal box. And, as she circled it, she even spotted a small door on one end. How had she missed it earlier? Just because it was positioned in the place a coffee table would normally be, between the couch and the television, didn't mean she could overlook the obvious.
Vera whipped out her radio. "Lyndsea here. I'll need a larger vehicle here, there's a large box that we need to take in for evidence. Looks to be quite heavy. Three by five by... oh, probably three, made of what looks to be steel. Yeah, we'll have it by the entrance when you get here. Thanks."
The radio was pocketed again, and Vera gave her most charming smile to the two officers, who had started to eye her nervously. "Well, boys, let's get moving!"
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Posted: Wed May 13, 2009 8:55 pm
It took the rest of the night to finish hauling everything back to the station, so the analysis of the evidence didn't start until the following morning. Yawning, Vera ran her fingers over the top of the crate. "Have we figured out what the material is yet?" she asked tiredly. She didn't like mornings, especially after a night out.
"Probably steel." The technician, one Amy Richards, pulled a pencil out of her messy updo and used it to tap the box. "It's quite thick, too- about an inch, I'd say. Whatever's in here, the person who packed it wanted to make sure it wasn't going anywhere."
"Too bad for them," Vera said wryly. She examined it again. There were remains of what appeared to be mailing labels along the bottom, but they had been ripped off. All that was visible was the address of the apartment. "No idea where this thing came from?" she asked.
Amy shook her head. "None. They're standard mailing labels. Anyone with access to an office supply store could get them. It's even Times New Roman font on the address. Whoever sent this wanted it to be untraceable."
Of course they did. "Damn them," Vera muttered. There were truly no leads. At least that meant they could finally open it. She fingered the door lightly. "Why the bars? It doesn't look very secure from that side." If he was transporting anything small, it could easily slip out."
"I wondered that too," Amy said quickly. "It looks like it was meant to carry living cargo. A wild animal of some kind, maybe. Fortunately, there's nothing moving inside." The thought of leaving a poor animal in there overnight was terrible, so that was the first thing they had checked.
Vera frowned. "You mean he spent all that money on an oversized box? No way." Now she was more than merely curious. The lock had been sawed off in preparation for opening it, so Vera flipped the latch and yanked on the door.
It was dark inside the box, but it was still easy enough to see the shock of bright pink inside. At first Vera thought it was a doll of some sort. But as she reached inside, she thought she felt something move. After a few seconds, she realized that it wasn't plastic or porcelain she was touching, but flesh.
"There's a child in there!"
"What? But that's impossible!" Amy dropped her clipboard and rushed to the other end of the table. "We checked, but we couldn't see any life signs-"
The two women exchanged frightened looks. "I'll get a medic over here," Amy shrieked. "Check for a pulse. If we've let it die-"
"I know, I know!" If the child had died due to their negligence, they would both be marked for life. Vera carefully pulled the body out of the crate. It wore no clothes, so it was easy enough to see that the "it" was in fact a "she." For a moment, Vera was too shocked to move. Who would put a little girl into a crate like a wild animal?
Then she reacted, pressing her ear to the girl's chest. Her body was cold, colder than Vera would have liked. She listened, the seconds passing so slowly it was agonizing. Was she just not listening, or was there nothing to listen to? Could she really be-
There! A heartbeat!
"She's alive!" Vera shouted, as two paramedics rushed into the room. "She's alive!"
"Thank god!" exclaimed Amy, trying to stay out of the medic's way as they carefully placed the child on a stretcher.
Vera was not one to invoke the divine, but she nodded. "Thank god," she echoed. "Thank god."
~*~ ~*~ ~*~
"It seems like she was in there for a couple of days," Amy recapped. "She's quite bruised from hitting the sides of the crate, and malnourished, but otherwise healthy. We're lucky it wasn't winter, or she might have frozen to death."
"Mhmm." Vera sighed, not really listening. Her eyes were on the girl in the hospital bed. She was so small, so fragile. And someone had just packed her away in a box, and- and sold her like a prize pig. She couldn't fathom it. And Duane had purchased her for some reason. Probably a horrible, criminal reason. As bad as this girl's short life was, she came frighteningly close to having it be a hundred times worse.
"... should be released tomorrow. We'll see if she knows anything, but she's so young... we'll probably have to put her into an orphanage."
"I'll take care of her."
"Or else foster care- what?" Amy's eyes widened. "You can't be serious, Vera."
"Why not?" Vera's eyes narrowed momentarily. Then she shrugged and went back to looking at the girl. "She's evidence, you know. Or maybe a witness. Duane could be coming back for her." She ticked off the points she wanted to make on her fingers, finally holding out three. That was enough.
All of these were reasonable, just not likely. "You live on take-out and Schnapps, Vera," Amy said pleadingly. "You'd be miserable with a kid."
"Maybe," Vera said simply. "But I don't think so. You don't get it, Amy. She needs someone. She needs me. And I think I need her."
"But why?" Amy frowned, but when she saw the look in Vera's eyes- of genuine concern, and willingness to sacrifice- she relented. "I'll talk to the Chief when he comes in. Try not to make me look bad if this goes through, okay?"
Vera didn't even reply. She just stared at the girl, and wondered yet again how anyone could cage her like that.
No one would again, she decided. It was now her job to make sure of that.
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Posted: Mon May 18, 2009 1:40 am
"Did you hear?"
"Hear what?"
A pair of uniformed officers paused in the hallway near the Criminal Affairs Department. The door was open, and clearly audible from inside were the shrieks of excited women, along with an occasional smattering of applause.
"You know that kid they brought in? The one in the box?" It was a well-known incident in the department now, considering what could have happened. All of the officers involved had been reprimanded, and retraining was required of all detectives. There had nearly been a scandal over it, but the Chief of Detectives managed to perform enough damage control that it was more a sob story than police negligence.
"Well," the officer went on, "that fairy detective, Lyndsea, is adopting her."
"Lyndsea?" asked his partner, holding back a snort. "You mean party girl? You can't be serious."
"Totally serious, man." The two couldn't take it anymore, and began to snicker. They'd both experienced the infamous Vice Detective before. Famous for her relative skill in closing cases, infamous for her interest in many of the vices she investigated. The thought of her as a mother? Absurd!
"Something funny, boys?"
Vera stepped out of the office. In one arm she carried a paper gift bag covered with wildflowers, and in the other, a small girl with pink hair, wearing a mint green jumper. "We wouldn't want to miss the joke, would we, sweetie?" Vera asked seriously.
The girl looked uncertain at first, but when Vera started to laugh, so did she. "Fum-ee," she giggled.
"Er. Nothing, Detective Lyndsea." Tipping their hats, the two officers hurried down the hall. While Vera could be fun, neither of them wanted to get on her bad side.
Vera smirked. "Something tells me we'll be surprising a lot of people, sugar plum. You don't mind, do you?" She paused. "I should really pick something to call you, other than sweetie or sugar plum. Any ideas?"
The girl looked up at Vera and tilted her head. She wasn't exactly sure what she was being asked, but since she was being smiled at, she smiled back contentedly. This was the first person she could remember, and she liked her.
Just staring at her got boring though, so she pointed to the bag slung over Vera's arm and squealed her delight. There had been all sorts of pretty bags that fun things were coming out of, toys and clothes and such. She wanted to know what was going to come out of that one!
Misunderstanding the girl's focus, Vera looked at the bag. "The flowers are pretty, aren't they? I think that's a peony, and that's an iris. There's lilacs and roses and marigolds... you know, you're much prettier than these," she commented, tickling the girl under the chin. "Maybe you'd like a flower name?"
Giggling, the girl clapped her hands. As long as she was with this person, she would be happy, she was sure of it!
"Then it's settled." Shifting the toddler in her arms, Vera headed back into the office. "There's got to be a baby name book in one of these boxes, right?" A few of her coworkers exchanged glances, and two offered unwrapped packages. "Perfect! Who wants to help me name this little cutie?"
Heading back down the hall, the two officers covered their ears to keep out the shrill screams of excited women. "I'll never get them, Tom."
"Just keep walking, Jack. Just keep walking."
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Posted: Tue May 19, 2009 11:42 pm
"I may well go mad," Vera declared to no one in particular.
As a direct result of the bungled search, Vera's superior had assigned her to desk duty until further notice. Someplace she couldn't get into trouble, the Captain had said. Of course, Vera knew that part of the reason she was stuck at her desk instead of a more severe but brief punishment was because of the girl scribbling on printer paper next to her. But that knowledge did not make the punishment feel any less like torture.
"This is not why I came here," she muttered, looking through another file. A file for a case that she could be on. One that she should be on! It wasn't fair. And "until further notice" was a rather ominous way of phrasing the duration of her punishment. For all Vera knew, the Captain had her on unofficial maternity leave, and she'd be stuck playing desk jockey until her bundle of joy was bigger than a breadbox.
... well, maybe she was already bigger than a breadbox, Vera relented. In their time together so far, she had found that her charge could walk, feed herself, and use the potty, all things she'd been worried about having to teach the girl. She could talk, though she didn't seem to know many words and usually imitated Vera's. But what else?
Setting the file aside, Vera swiveled her chair so she was facing the adjacent desk. "What'cha doing, Nazrin?"
Upon her arrival at the station that day, Nazrin had confiscated the highlighters off each desk in the Criminal Affairs office. There were about six colors in all, and those plus a ream of copy paper meant that Nazrin had no less than two dozen pictures to show for her efforts.
She picked up the topmost sheet, covered with looping swirls in pink and orange, and held it out for Vera to see. "Paper-work," she explained proudly. That was what Vera had said she was doing, and that was what Nazrin decided to do too.
"I can see that," Vera cooed. She would have to make a book out of all the drawings Nazrin was showing her. "You did a good job, sweetie. They're beautiful."
Nazrin turned pink, her cheeks almost matching her hair. She gathered up her drawings, arms overflowing as she put them in Vera's lap. "For Mama," she said softly. They had been fun to make, and she wanted them to make Vera happy too.
But now that Nazrin had drawn practically everything she could think of, she was bored. Lifting her arms, she opened and closed her hands at her mother anxiously. "Carry?"
"Not now, Nazrin. I have to finish my work. But you can do more paperwork too." Vera patted Nazrin's head distractedly, the drawings already buried under folders.
Nazrin sighed and looked at her desk. Six highlighters and a whole lot of paper. All she could do with the highlighters was draw, but was that all she could do with the paper? She took a sheet in her hands and moved it experimentally. It wiggled when she shook it. When she folded it, the folds stayed put. And when she accidentally twisted it too hard, it ripped into two uneven pieces.
"Ah!" Nazrin exclaimed, holding one fragment of paper in each hand. Try as she might, she couldn't put it back together again. But maybe she didn't have to. Her blue eyes took in the pieces, then the stack of yet untouched paper, and lit up. That was an idea!
~*~ ~*~ ~*~
Stifling a yawn, Vera filed the last folder into the cabinet under her desk. "Alright, Nazrin, it's time to go home." There was no response. Frowning, Vera turned to look- and her mouth dropped open.
Nazrin's desk was covered with paper. Sheets had been ripped roughly in half and folded into triangles that Nazrin had clumsily piled on top of each other. Near the bottom it was neat enough, but as the stack got higher, it had started to tumble unevenly. Not deterred, Nazrin had kept making triangles and stacked them until they were as high as she could reach, even when standing on her chair.
When she saw Vera watching, she smiled proudly. "Tower."
"Is that what that is?" Vera asked dazedly. Her immediate thought was 'what a waste of paper,' but as she kept looking, she began to feel proud of her little girl. "Did you figure out how to do that all by yourself?" She had to; Vera hadn't had time to teach her much.
Sure enough, Nazrin nodded. "Mama likes?"
Aside from the fact that it was a mess... "Mama likes very much. In fact, I have an idea. Wait here."
Vera vanished into the next room, only to reappear a minute later with a Polaroid camera. Relieved that Nazrin hadn't moved, she sat the girl on the edge of the desk. "Say cheese!"
"Cheeeeese?" Nazrin repeated, puzzled at the word, and even more puzzled when a light flashed in her eyes. "Eeeee!" she shrieked, hiding her face behind her hands.
Chuckling, Vera patted Nazrin's head. "I'm sorry sweetie, did that scare you? It was just the flash. But look at this." She handed Nazrin the picture, which was still a square of blurry gray. "Keep looking."
Nazrin did, and was amazed to see color start to come to the picture. "Aaaa?"
"Keep watching."
Soon enough the picture was clear, and Nazrin shrieked again, this time in excitement. "Tower! Nazrin!"
"That's right, it's you and the tower." Now that they had a picture of it, it would be okay to clean it up, wouldn't it? Vera began to dismantle it, but stopped when Nazrin looked at her with a horrified expression. "We have a picture of it," she reminded the girl.
Nazrin nodded, but her eyes had begun to tear up. She had worked so hard on the tower, and mama wanted to take it down?
"Well..." Vera sighed. "We don't have to take it down today."
"Aaaa!" squealed Nazrin, wrapping her short arms around Vera's neck. The tower would stay! Her hard work wasn't for nothing!
She'd clean it up over the weekend, Vera decided, carrying Nazrin out of the office. That would be okay... wouldn't it?
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Posted: Sun Jul 26, 2009 11:37 pm
It took a few weeks for Vera to not want to cry when she got home from work.
"It's not that bad," she would repeat over and over, like a mantra, steeling herself for opening the door. But then the door would open, and a stack of books would collapse, and her heart would be back on the first floor.
Her studio apartment was perfect for a single woman who spent long hours at the office. With a little arranging, it had become her retreat, her refuge from the harsh realities of her job. Her Murphy bed had been the best investment, allowing her to sleep comfortably at night and have some room during the day. She had ample storage already, all of it filled with books (mostly detective stories), clothes, and paraphernalia for Vera's numerous hobbies. Her kitchen was small, but had room for her to cook and store simple meals. It was, in short, the perfect bachelorette pad.
Now, when Vera got home, Nazrin would run inside and start playing with her toys, which occupied every square inch of floor space Vera had once thought of as... well, floor. She had no idea why one child needed blocks and dolls and stuffed animals and picture books and other toys she didn't even know the names of, but Nazrin had them. More toys and clothes, generously donated by her coworkers at the precinct, were stuffed into shelves that once held her books and toys, now relegated to loft space where she knew she'd never seen them again. It would be nice if someone had given her space at the impromptu baby shower, Vera often thought dryly. The bathroom was crowded with bath toys and robes with cute animals and baby shampoo and soap and bubble bath and special combs and brushes for Nazrin's hair. Likewise, the kitchen was full of lunchboxes and Tupperware and fruit snacks and peanut butter and jelly and Flintstones vitamins.
The worst yet, though, was how Vera had to give up her comfortable bed. Nazrin was just too big for a crib, and getting a child's bed would be a waste of money in her opinion. So she'd opted for a simple air mattress while she thought about what to do. But that first night... she simply couldn't make her girl sleep on the floor. Moms had to make tough decisions, and this was one of them, she was discovering more quickly than she'd like.
"I don't think I knew what I was getting into," Vera remarked to Nazrin as they got ready for bed. "Stop wiggling, honey."
Nazrin obeyed, and a moment later her pink head popped through the hole in her purple nightgown. "Some'fin wrong?" she asked curiously. She was more comfortable calling this home now, and Vera her Mommy. She was even okay spending time away from Mommy, as long as she was kept entertained, since Mommy proved that she always came back and took her home. But sometimes Mommy looked so sad, and Nazrin had no idea why.
"Mommy sad?"
Vera blinked. It often startled her how perceptive children were, and Nazrin was especially sharp. "Not really, sweetie pie. Just thinking. And right now I'm thinking it's time for bed."
"Bed?" Nazrin made a face. She hated going to bed. And since Mommy worked almost all the time, she had to go to bed twice; once while it was still light out, and once when it was dark. Sleep was scary because the last time she was asleep, she woke up in the scary box. But what was almost worse was that she couldn't do anything while she was asleep. All her toys and games and books had to wait while she slept. She couldn't go to school while she slept. And she hated that just as much as she was afraid of sleeping, if not more.
They'd had this argument more than a few times in the weeks since Nazrin had come to live with her, so Vera was prepared. "If you sleep now, I'll make you an extra-special breakfast." Vera had been a passable cook before, but was getting a lot more experience now that she was cooking for two. Fortunately, the simple foods that kids liked were not too tough to make.
Nazrin considered this, then shook her head. It was a tempting offer, but not good enough. She knew she could get better.
Vera sighed. She knew that she could get Nazrin to agree immediately by threatening to go to bed without her. But the first time she did that, Nazrin had gotten so genuinely upset that it scared her a bit. Maybe it was guilt, but Vera didn't want to try that again if she could absolutely help it.
"Breakfast AND a story before I go to work?"
Another shake of the head. Nazrin was holding out for something specific, but she didn't want to tell Mommy what it was. She was hoping that Mommy just KNEW. She knew lots of things, after all.
"Hmm. Breakfast and a story, and... we can go out to dinner tomorrow?"
"No!" That definitely was not what Nazrin was aiming for. She liked Mommy's cooking better than at fancy places, even when Mommy yelled at the stove. It just tasted better.
"Okay, okay, not the way to go." Vera hummed softly as she ran her fingers through Nazrin's hair. What was she overlooking? "Breakfast, a story, and... what else? Oh, I know, you want a story before bed too!"
Nazrin didn't show it, but she was disappointed. Clearly Mommy didn't know what she wanted. But she was too tired to argue more, and too scared of being left behind, so she nodded. "Okay, Mommy."
It wasn't exactly the enthusiastic response she was expecting, but Vera accepted it. She told Nazrin one of her favorite stories, a folktale about how the stars were born, and tucked her into bed (her bed, though she tried not to dwell on that). With that settled, she found she only had enough energy to read a few pages of her latest mystery novel before tucking herself in. She used to go through books in a day or two. She had started that one the day before she found Nazrin, and had yet to finish it. With a wistful sigh she climbed onto her air bed and fell asleep.
When she woke up, she noticed, not with too much surprise, that Nazrin was curled up next to her, holding onto her arm. She noticed that more and more, the girl would wake up sometime during the night and come to sleep with her, making the air mattress more crowded than it needed to be. Still, she couldn't be too cross. "Hey, wake up sleepyhead."
Nazrin squirmed in her sleep and squeezed Vera's arm tighter. "Mommy..."
A nightmare? Vera hoped not, but gently shook Nazrin anyway. "Wake up time, Nazrin."
Blinking slowly, her blue eyes finally came into focus on Vera's arm. "Mommy, morning!"
"That's right, angel. Time to get ready to greet the day! And if I recall, I promised someone a special breakfast and a story before work."
"Extra-special," Nazrin corrected, giggling. That did sound nice. But it wasn't exactly fair, since she'd gotten what she really wanted anyway. All she ever wanted was for Mommy to invite her to bed with her. She liked being closer to Mommy whenever possible.
... but breakfast and a story sounded pretty good too, so she said nothing more on the subject.
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Posted: Thu Jul 30, 2009 11:03 pm
It was 3AM, and Vera hadn't slept in almost 48 hours, but it was worth it. No, she hadn't been tracking a criminal or processing evidence. She worked through her day off on this, and with great relish pressed the "print" key on her laptop.
A single sheet of paper printed out. Nazrin stood on tiptoe and managed to pull it out of the tray. She stared at it for a moment before holding it out to Vera. "What's this?"
"That, sweetie pie, is our life from this day forward. You would not believe the hoops I had to jump through to make it fit- and it's still not done, but it's a start. We'll probably have to adjust it a bit, but you'll let me know what you like and what you don't, won't you?" Vera printed out another copy, since she had a feeling Nazrin wouldn't give up the one she was holding.
Nazrin squinted at the paper again. She didn't get it, but she did understand that it was what Mommy was working on all this time. "Is it why we go places today?"
"That's right." Leaving the copy in the printer, Vera picked up Nazrin and carried her over to the bed, which was really the only place with room for them both to sit comfortably. "You liked those places, right? The preschool and the other places?" There had been at least two community centers and a number of specialized schools, not all of which had been appropriate for what Vera was looking for. But there had been some gems in there as well, and she managed to put them together to create something magnificent. In her mind, anyway.
All of this went over Nazrin's head. She tilted the paper a different way, as if that would make things easier to understand. It didn't. "What's this?" she asked again.
Vera frowned. Maybe she hadn't really explained properly. That, or they were both tired from lack of sleep. "It's called a schedule," she said slowly, enunciating each syllable of the new word.
"Ske-duul," Nazrin repeated obediently, and for the third time asked "what's that?"
"A schedule lists what happens when. This one is for you, Nazrin. It's shows when you go to school, when you have classes, and when we eat and take naps. Would you like me to read it to you?"
Still not entirely understanding, Nazrin nodded. If nothing else, she loved storytime.
Vera almost laughed at Nazrin's innocent look, but kept her attention on the subject at hand. "Well, every morning, Monday through Friday, you're going to go to that preschool we went to today. They're going to teach you how to read, and write, and count, and there's playtime and snacktime and all sorts of fun things. Do you think you'll like that?"
Nazrin nodded energetically, making Vera wonder if she knew how late it was. "Other kids too?" She had met very few kids her age so far, usually just for a few minutes, and she was looking forward to making friends.
"That's the whole point, silly goose." Now Vera indulged in a giggle. "And you'll meet lots of kids in your classes, too. See, after preschool you'll come back to the station for lunch and a nap, and then I'll take you to classes. There's two every day, see? So tomorrow, after naptime, you'll have go to an arts and crafts class, and then your first swimming class. Does that sound like fun?"
Did it? Nazrin did like art, but she'd never had a lesson in it. It must be fun if art was fun. And swimming was something she'd wanted to try since Mommy had told her about it. "Yes!" she said, only a little apprehensive. What if she messed up?
"Atta girl! Now, on Tuesday, you go to something called karate. I think they teach you how to breathe and punch things, but you'll have to tell me. After that is a music class, with singing and learning about different instruments. Won't that be fun?" Vera went on, describing the entire week's schedule in brief.
As she listened, Nazrin's excitement started to fade. It was replaced by a feeling of extreme anxiety. There was so much to do! Was she supposed to be good at all of those things? What if she didn't like something? Or what if something was too hard? What could she do?
"And most Sundays I have off, so we can spend those days together going places. Well, what do you think? Are you excited?"
Nazrin was trembling a little bit. But when she saw how happy Mommy looked, and thought about how hard Mommy had worked on doing all of this- for her!- she couldn't speak. It took several seconds, but she swallowed the lump in her throat and grinned.
"Yes!" she nearly shouted, not being used to forcing excitement.
Maybe it was her parenting inexperience, or maybe she was just overworked, but Vera didn't notice anything wrong. "I'm so glad you're looking forward to it," she squealed, sweeping Nazrin into a hug. "Now, let's get ready for bed. It's a big day tomorrow! My little girl's going to school! Oh, you're going to love it."
Less than convinced, Nazrin shivered again. "Yes, Mommy," she murmured. "Gonna love it."
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Posted: Fri Aug 21, 2009 11:37 pm
Things did not go as planned, quite, but Vera was starting to become used to that.
For starters, the school she thought she had enrolled Nazrin in was actually a day camp endorsed by a school. School, it was explained to her by a smirking staffer, didn't start for another month, and would involve much more paperwork. But Nazrin was welcome to come to camp until it ended, which at least meant that all the work wasn't for nothing. It ended later than scheduled, but most of the after school activities Vera had signed Nazrin up for were held in the same place, so as long as she sent lunch along with the girl, she'd be fine until dinnertime.
While a bit annoyed at having to look for schools and activities again in a month, Vera was relieved that Nazrin would be taken care of during the day. The next day, she packed Nazrin's new Lovely Lady Soldier Wasabi lunchbox full of jam sandwiches with their crusts cut off, carrot sticks, string cheese, and a carton of chocolate milk.
"You're going to have such a good time," she said repeatedly, squeezing Nazrin's hand as they walked to "school."
"Yes, Mommy," Nazrin said softly. She liked all the attention she got from the teachers the day before, but it didn't look like the kids liked it as much as she did. She liked her Lovely Lady Soldier Wasabi lunchbox, even if she didn't know who Wasabi was, or what made her so lovely. She liked a lot of the things on her schedule, but the sheer number of activities still made her a little woozy. She'd even gotten used to the idea of being away from Mommy for a whole day, which she had never done before.
But she was still anxious. What if she couldn't do everything? What if the other kids didn't like her? Worse, what if Mommy saw that and decided she didn't need her anymore?
Vera took a sip of her morning coffee. "I'm almost jealous," she admitted. "I'd love to ditch pushing papers and play games with you." Preschool was something Vera had never tried before, but unless she suddenly shrank three feet, it was unlikely she'd get a chance.
Nazrin's eyes widened. "Mommy's coming too?"
"Oh... no, sweetie. I just meant that I'd like to come with you, but I can't. I explained already, Mommy has to work. And work isn't very fun, is it?" Not when she was stuck behind a desk, anyway.
No, work wasn't very fun, but Nazrin hesitated. As boring as sitting at the police station coloring in coloring books was, at least she knew she was being a good girl when she did it. This school, or camp, or whatever it was, sounded like fun, but she had no idea if she could do it. And it made Mommy so upset when talking to the other adults.
Sensing that Nazrin might argue, Vers quickly answered her own question. "Of course not. And this will teach you all sorts of things. I'm looking forward to you telling me everything you learned today when I pick you up."
"Learn?" Nazrin tilted her head. Was that something else she had to do?
"Of course. That's the other reason you're going to school. I want you to have fun, but you're going to learn new things. Hopefully fun new things. Does that make sense, honey?"
Maybe she had misunderstood. "Have fun, and learn, and... that's it?"
"That's right." Vera paused, and squeezed Nazrin's hand again. "Are you feeling okay, Nazrin?"
"Yes!" Nazrin said cheerily. If that was all she had to do- and not all of the dozen activities on the schedule- she felt a lot better. Of course, there were still a lot of things that could go wrong, but with the odds in her favor now, she was willing to give it a try.
Vera sighed with relief. "Good. Because here we are!" She slurped the last bit of her coffee, tossed the cup in the curbside garbage, and steered Nazrin to the door of the building. "You are going to have so much fun!"
"Yes, Mommy," Nazrin replied, feeling happier than she had in days. "Lots of fun!"
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Posted: Sun Aug 23, 2009 9:20 pm
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Posted: Mon Aug 24, 2009 10:28 pm
"So, how was your day?"
Vera held Nazrin's hand as they walked the last few blocks home. They had finally settled into their routine, much to her relief. Nazrin seemed to be enjoying her activities, and as an added bonus, they tired her out so much that she didn't argue when it was time for bed. At this rate, she figured it wouldn't be long before she was put back on active duty. She wasn't meant to be a desk jockey.
They were walking quickly, and Nazrin found she had to skip in order to keep up. Not that she minded. Skipping was fun, and she wasn't that tired. She was also glad that she could finally talk. Even after all her classes, she still had to sit and watch Mommy work for a long time, so she was ready to be active again. "Good!" she chirped, holding up the box she had brought back. "We made super-duper dessert!"
"Oh? Must be... Wednesday, right." The days all started to run together for Vera, so she was never sure exactly what she was taking Nazrin to do. "Cooking, I guess. What kind of dessert?"
"Surprise!" Nazrin grinned. "But it's yummy. Save room, okay?" There was usually more food at dinner than she could eat, and Mommy usually said she was full at the end, so she wanted to make sure that she saved room for what she made.
Vera laughed. "Oh, I definitely will. What else did you do today?" By then they had made it to the front door, and she was fumbling in her pockets for the house keys.
"Soccer. We kicked the ball into the goal," Nazrin explained excitedly, practically dancing through the door. Cooking was fun, since she had something to show for her efforts, but she enjoyed running around a lot more. "Soon we get to be on teams. Mommy's gonna watch, right?"
"Of course, sweetheart." Shutting the door behind them, she led Nazrin towards the mailboxes. Their schedule was tight as it was, but she would have to figure something out. Later. "Want to open the mailbox?"
Did she ever! Nazrin practically grabbed the keys out of Vera's hand. Their mailbox was in the bottom left corner, which meant that she could juuust reach the keyhole if she stood on tiptoe. It took a couple of tries for her to put the key in the right way, but finally she slid it into the lock and twisted. "There!"
"That's my girl!" As Nazrin turned pink from pride, Vera opened the mailbox and took out the contents. "Bill, junk, junk, junk, catalog... what's this?" There was a package receipt. Those weren't unusual; the mailbox couldn't hold anything bigger than a magazine, so most packages were delivered in person or held at the post office. "It's too early for this month's book club book," she mused. But there wasn't anything else it could be. She shrugged, and pocketed the slip.
Confused, Nazrin took the paper out of Vera's pocket. "What's this?"
"That says we need to go to the post office." Now that she thought about it, she'd been home for most of the past months' deliveries, so Nazrin had never seen the post office. "How about you come with me on Saturday morning?"
"Okay!" Whatever a post office was, if Mommy was taking her, it was sure to be fun!
"Alright then, it's a date." Vera took the skip back. "Now, last one upstairs is a rotten egg!"
She made for the stairs, trying to make it look like she was going fast, but taking one step for every five she would make if she were really racing.
As soon as she saw Mommy move away, Nazrin let out a small cry and tore after her. "Wait for me, Mommy!"
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Posted: Mon Aug 31, 2009 12:26 am
The post office was fascinating. Nazrin was used to busy places from accompanying her mother to work. But the post office was different. It had machines, and loooong lines, and windows with people behind them. More exciting, Mommy had explained that everyone was at the post office because they were sending something to somebody, or, like them, were picking up something somebody sent them. All those envelopes and boxes and parcels were big surprises, waiting for the right person. She couldn't wait to see what theirs was!
Except she could wait, and did, for nearly a half an hour. By that point, the post office had lost much of its charm. "Are we there yet?" she asked, not for the first time.
Vera looked up from her book. "Hm? No, not yet. Can you count the people in front of us?"
Mommy had asked the same thing when they got there, and Nazrin couldn't do it all by herself. But there were far less people now, so counting was easy. "One, two-" She was about to count three, but a light lit above one of the windows, and the person at the head of the line stepped over. "Two," she announced.
"Then it should just be another couple of minutes," Vera said reassuringly. Sure enough, before long they were in front, and a light lit above window number ten. "Let's go, sweetie."
They went together, hand in hand, and Nazrin stood on her tiptoes and pushed the slip of paper at the person behind the window. "Package for us," she enunciated clearly, having practiced saying the longer word on the line.
Vera beamed proudly, while the postal worker chuckled and disappeared, taking the paper with her. In a few minutes she came back with a rather large cardboard box, which puzzled Vera greatly. "Are you sure this is it? I was expecting something... smaller."
The postal worker explained that she was quite sure, but that if there were any problems, the package could be returned to its sender. Maybe it was a gift?
"Open it!" Nazrin said excitedly. She had waited patiently; now she wanted to know what was in the box!
A little less proud, Vera put her finger to her lips. "Not so loud, Nazrin. We're in a busy place. And we shouldn't open a package in this busy place."
After all that, they weren't going to open it? Nazrin's face fell, and her eyes teared up. She thought she had been a good girl, but maybe Mommy didn't think so. What had she done wrong?
Although she had become firmer as a parent, Vera couldn't take tears. "Okay, okay," she said hastily. "Come to the side with me, and we'll see what's inside."
Instantly the tears were gone, and Nazrin gleefully followed Vera to a quieter section of the post office. "Open!" she cheered. "Open open!"
"Hold your horses," Vera grunted, eyeing the label on the box. It wasn't from an address she recognized. Puzzling. For a moment she was nervous about opening it in public, but then she saw Nazrin's face again and sighed. There was no way to go against that, and if they all got blown to kingdom come, she'd be too dead to notice.
With a deft flourish she pulled a nail file out of her purse and sliced through the tape along the top of the box. Then, only hesitating for a moment, she pulled the flaps open.
It wasn't a bomb. Unless it was some kind of hippie bomb.
Nazrin peered into the box. "A flower?" she asked, scrunching up her face. If so, it was not a very pretty flower.
"Not exactly. It looks more like a cabbage." Quite large for a cabbage, really, but otherwise rather cabbagelike. She reached in and touched one of the leaves. Definitely cabbage. And no wires or odd noises, no unusual heat centers, so probably not a ticking cabbage.
"Dinner?" Nazrin asked next, her face scrunched up even more. She hated having salad for dinner, and was desperately hoping that she wasn't supposed to eat all of that.
Vera shuddered. "I don't think so. Here, there's instructions: 'Water frequently and leave in a sunny area.' Maybe some kind of do it yourself cabbage farm?" she considered, finding a small spray bottle tucked under a few cabbage leaves.
"Can I do it?" Much as she disliked eating green things, Nazrin did like the gardens Mommy had taken her to, and the idea of having one at home was exciting. For now, anyway.
Shrugging, Vera shut the top of the box. "Sure, why not? It's just cabbage, right?"
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Posted: Mon Oct 26, 2009 9:56 pm
Nazrin took her job as official cabbage caretaker seriously. At first she had considered purposely neglecting it, since while she liked the idea of growing cabbage, she did not like the idea of eating it. But killing it would just be sad and mean, so she did her best to take care of it.
And if cabbage showed up on the dinner menu later, she'd find a way to get it off. Somehow.
In the meantime, she made sure to wake up early in the mornings so she had time to spray the cabbage with the bottle and make sure it was in the sun, but not too in the sun, and talk to it. Mommy had told her that talking to plants helped them grow, so she did.
"G'morning," she said, taking the bottle down off the windowsill. "Did cabbage sleep good?" It was kind of difficult to make conversation with a plant, but it was also kind of reassuring. At least the cabbage wouldn't laugh at her or call her "so cuuuuute," which Nazrin felt was making fun of her, no matter what Mommy said.
Most days, the cabbage didn't say anything. Once or twice, Nazrin could imagine the cabbage talking to her. But it never actually had before, so it took her quite by surprise when the cabbage seemed to say "good?"
Nazrin froze. What could that have been? Was she imagining it? She listened for a full minute, but the cabbage didn't seem to say anything else. She must have imagined it, or maybe she was still dreaming. Yawning, she started to liberally spray the cabbage with water.
"Ah!" A mess of damp silver hair popped out of the cabbage, followed by a pair of deep blue eyes. "You wet me," the voice said accusingly.
For a moment, Nazrin wondered if she was still dreaming. Then she impulsively leaned forward and touched the face- the nose, to be exact. It was real. Once she knew that, she wasn't sure what to think. "Cabbage?" she asked in a whisper.
The face shook from side to side. Then, deciding that it was a tight squeeze in the green leafy thing, he tried to get out. It was difficult, especially considering that the cabbage was balanced on the windowsill. Unaware, the figure pushed away from the window, and started to fall.
Gasping, Nazrin tried to hold the cabbage up, and failed. One empty cabbage and two surprised children fell to the floor. "Owww," Nazrin whimpered, holding her elbow. That hurt!
The cabbage rolled away as they sorted themselves out, revealing a boy about Nazrin's size, wearing a long blue coat and fancy shoes. He held his knee for a moment, but when he saw Nazrin he scrambled to his feet. "Hurt?"
"Yes," Nazrin said forcefully. Then she felt had. This boy looked nice, and he probably didn't mean to hurt her. "A little. You?"
He shook his head, but still looked worried. "I should fix it"
Now Nazrin really felt bad. And confused as to why there was someone in the cabbage that Mommy didn't tell her about. "It's okay," she insisted, getting to her feet as well. "Who're you?"
"Uhhh..." The boy's expression clouded. Then he shrugged. "Dunno. C'mon, go fix."
Vera woke up to the sound of running water. Rubbing her eyes, she stumbled to the bathroom, where she almost collided with Nazrin and some other kid squeezed together on Nazrin's sink-reaching stool. "Who's this?" she demanded, opening and closing her eyes several times.
The boy was busy washing a small scrape on Nazrin's arm, but when he saw Vera he froze as if he was caught with his hand in a cookie jar.
"Mommy!" Pulling her arm away, Nazrin hopped off the stool and grabbed Vera's hand. "Cabbage, Mommy. Mommy, Cabbage."
"Cab- what?" Vera started to protest, but she caught a glimpse of the discarded cabbage in the living room. "They're sending them in innocent vegetables now? What's the world coming to?"
Nazrin's face fell. "Mommy's angry?" she asked nervously, squeezing the boy's hand. "I did bad?"
The boy had been pointedly staring at the floor, looking like he was trying not to cry. But when Nazrin started to get upset, he looked Vera in the eye angrily, as if daring her to punish them. He didn't know much about either the girl or the woman yet, but he knew that no one had done anything wrong.
"No sweetie," Vera said quickly. "Just take your friend here into the living room, okay? Mommy needs to think."
As soon as they were out of the bathroom, she shut the door and dunked her entire head under the still running tap. "Two," she asked no one in particular. "What do I do with two?"
No one answered, and Vera sighed. Her days just got much longer.
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